


My Best Friend Went to Israel and All I Got Were These Lousy Letters

by JetGirl1832, tomatopudding



Series: Friends Make Life A Lot More Fun [6]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, High School, Israel, Judaism, Male Friendship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetGirl1832/pseuds/JetGirl1832, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is on a family trip to Israel and he decides to write to Roger while he's there.</p><p> </p><p>Summer 1985</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Best Friend Went to Israel and All I Got Were These Lousy Letters

**Author's Note:**

> This is the one that started it all, the very first fic idea we had for this headcanon universe. The letters were written in real time, with JetGirl1832 playing the role of Mark (in Ohio) and tomatopudding playing the role of Roger (in Colorado). Obviously, we've fudged the timing of these letters a bit. It did take much longer for letters to be sent/received back then, especially overseas, but we really liked this idea, so we just went with it.

It was late at night and Mark sat at the small desk in the hotel room he was sharing with Cindy. He couldn't sleep and was dreading the next eight weeks he had to spend with his family, it wasn't going to be easy. He looked at the notebook sticking out of his backpack, on the flight he had made some attempts at a script of a yet to be titled film he wanted to make, but he didn't feel like working on that right now.

He picked up one of the free hotel pens and started twirling it around in his hand. Almost getting lost in the hypnotic motion he caught sight of the stationery available for guests sitting on the desk. But who would he write to? With Maureen away at theater camp it would already take forever for her to get mail, and from Israel it would take even longer. So that was out of the question. Roger, of course. He should write to Roger.

Before his parents had sprung the whole "family trip to Israel" news on him the two of them had talked about the possibility of making plans for the summer. Mark wasn't sure exactly what it was that Roger had in mind when he said that, but was interested nonetheless.

Roger was pissed when Mark told him that was no longer a possibility as he was being taken against his will on a family vacation. That was when Roger conveniently pointed out that the last vacation the Cohens had gone on was when Mark was in sixth grade and it was back to Buffalo, of all places. Now, he was halfway across the world in a foreign country about the size of New Jersey.

Well, if they weren't going to be together, Mark figured that he should keep his best friend in the know. At least the letters would be proof that he was still alive, and maybe even sane. He pulled the pad of paper close to him and started writing.

_Dear Roger,_

_My first letter from the Holy Land, and I hope it finds you well. Don't worry I'm not expecting you to reply or anything, that would be too much to ask, but I need someone (even though you are thousands of miles away) to save me from the insanity that is my family. I don't know how the hell I'm going to get through this trip alive, so maybe when we said goodbye that was actually my last. Or I might get sent back in straight jacket, can you get a Section 8 from your family?_

__

_Anyway the flight was long and boring, it was twelve hours and I was stuck between this weird old Rabbi type guy wearing a big black coat, and a big black hat, who in the middle of the flight stood up and started praying. And the woman on my other side kept telling me about “what a handsome boy” I was and how when we get there she wants to set me up with her granddaughter Rivkah-Chana something or other._

__

_We were stuck at the airport for a couple of hours because first they couldn't find one of my mother's bags and then the bus was late. Like really late, we were just about to hail a cab when it finally showed up and it was jam packed with people. The transportation here might be a lot worse than anything that New York City has to offer, and I think that's saying something._

__

_We finally got to Jerusalem and checked into some fancy hotel called the King David. My parents got two rooms, so of course I have to share with Cindy, but if she continues to snore I may just camp out on the sofa instead. She has already taken over the bathroom, there is hardly an inch of counter space and I swear she has what looks like at least five different things to wash her hair with. I don't know who she's trying to impress, it's not like we know anyone here. Although they do have all those soldiers just casually walking about. Hope things are alright in Scarsdale, wish I was there too, god I never thought that I would say that. Anyway I'm going to bed, or I just might pass out. See you in two months._

__

_Mark_

\----------

A few days into their first week in Israel Mark found himself sitting by the pool drafting yet another letter to Roger.

"Mark did you put on sunscreen?"

"Yes mother," Mark replied, rolling his eyes, seriously did she think he didn't know how to deal with this? When it came to genetics, Cindy was lucky, she had fair skin that, when out in the sun, would slowly tan. Mark, not so much. He just burned; red like a lobster was how he looked at the end of most summers. Even when he applied copious amounts of sunscreen he still managed to burn. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and set back to his letter.

_Dear Roger,_

_Jet lag sucks, like seriously sucks. Don't know if you've ever had the misfortune of experiencing it but it kind of reminds me of when you got me drunk at my Bar Mitzvah party. I'm actually surprised that I remember any of that night._

 

_Aside from that, we've actually started doing things, things that, depending on your definition, one might say were exciting. Mom and Dad seem to be enjoying "Immersing themselves in the culture."_

__

_Frankly, I don't understand what kind of culture has salad for breakfast. I would much rather have a bowl of Captain Crunch thank you very much. There is a plus to Israeli breakfasts, they have chocolate milk in a bag! It is as weird as it sounds but it's actually fantastic. I can practically feel you rolling your eyes through the paper. Perhaps I can bring some back and then you'll see what I mean. And before you get it in your head, no. I am not bringing you back a hookah._

__

_But that’s not what’s important right now, on the first day when we were getting ready Cindy's hair dryer blew out the electricity in the bathroom and shorted out her hair dryer, apparently she didn’t compensate for the different voltage. I don't think I have ever heard anyone ever scream so loud, I think that my ears are still ringing from it. Maybe I'll lose my hearing and will never hear Maureen sing again, although that might be a blessing._

__

_After the hair dryer debacle (and much crying and overreacting on Cindy's part) dad said it was time to go and start our adventures in the old city (his words, not mine). It was okay, the streets are really narrow and everything is built out if what they call Jerusalem stone, don't know whose bright idea that was because it's really slippery, even when it's not wet._

__

_We were planning on heading back a little early to get ready for dinner, dad made reservations at the restaurant in the hotel. But we got side tracked, we made a detour through the City of David and of course my father had to see this thing called "Hezekiah's Tunnel". What they neglected to tell us was that it would be cold, narrow and wet, I mean it's a water system from 2,000 years ago why would there still be water? So my shoes were soaked through and they squeaked and squished all the way back to the hotel. They are still airing out on the balcony as we speak._

__

_The next day we were back in the Old City, no water this time, instead we went to the Wailing Wall (sounds great doesn't it?). It's a place I've heard about during all those years of Sunday school but seeing it was something else. And I'm not sure if that is a good thing, I wasn’t taken by the awe or the grandeur of seeing this wall but more of a feeling of inequality. The whole area directly in front of the wall is divided in two, one side for men and one side for women._

__

_Let me tell you this not something that Maureen would approve of, she would say it goes against everything that she stands for. I mean the men’s side is like three quarters of the wall while for the women it's a tiny sliver of a space. I think I was too disturbed by that to really get anything out of it. I was glad when we left and went to see the rest of the city._

__

_When were done in the old city city we took a bus past the hotel and down to a place called Machane Yehudah, or I've heard some people call it the Shuk? It's basically an open air market sort of thing. It's filled with people who are pushing and shoving, shouting loudly in Hebrew and people bargaining with each other, also very loudly. This was actually pretty cool so I did take some pictures here, remind me to show you when I get back._

__

_And I guess that brings me to today, nothing scheduled so we are down by the pool. Maybe I'll actually get a tan this summer, that would be a first._

__

_Mark_

"Oh Mark honey," His mother let out a gasp.

"What?" Mark turned around as he gathered the pages of his letter.

"Your back is all red, I told you to put sunscreen on," Mrs. Cohen said with a frown.

Mark slowly sat up from his hunched over position "But I did-" the all too familiar pain sent shocks through his body. “Ow,” he muttered as he looked at the back of his arms to see they were bright red as well, he groaned.

"Let's get you inside, I don't want you to get heat stroke," Mrs. Cohen spoke firmly.

"Mom," Mark let out in a huff.

"I'll go have your father pick up some aloe at the pharmacy," Mrs. Cohen ignored him as he got up and followed her back inside. She was his mother, her word was law in her eyes. No amount of arguing or complaining was ever going to change that.

"I need to mail this letter," Mark spoke up.

"Letter? What letter?" Mrs. Cohen cocked her head to the side.

Mark held up the pages that made up said letter, "This one, to Roger."

"How sweet of you," Mrs.Cohen smiled, "don't worry we'll take care of it, you just relax and don't you dare pick at where it's peeling!" she commanded and took the letter, "I'm sure Roger will be very pleased to get this."

Mark grumbled and his face turned red (not from the sun) as he made his way back up to the hotel room, so much for trying to get a tan this summer.

\----------

_Take Us A Picture You’re the Camera Man,_

_I really wasn’t going to write back to you, because pen pals are stupid, but I read your second letter and I just have to set something straight. I did not, as you say, get you drunk at your Bar Mitzvah party. I simply offered you a sip of my flask, it’s not my fault you went and guzzled the whole thing. Not to mention, I distinctly remember Maureen just outside the bathroom door egging you on, so I would say that the blame rests squarely on her shoulders._

__

_Man, why did you and MoMo both have to be away this summer? Scarsdale is boring as fuck without you around (and don’t you scold me about swearing_ mom _or I won’t write you again this whole summer and you’ll think that I died or something...you know, never mind I may actually die of boredom, whether I write you back or not). Ah, shit, hold on my dad’s coming, I have to open the window. Sorry about the burn mark here, I had to put out my cigarette, dad would kill me if he found out I was smoking. (Don’t you dare lecture me about that either: not writing, thinking I’m dead, sadness, etc.)_

__

_Sounds like your summer is going to be a drag, Jew Face, but don’t you fret. Once you get back, I’ve got plans. Be afraid, be very afraid. Gotta go now or I’ll be late to work. Yup, you read that right, I got a job. It’s nothing much, bussing tables at that 50s themed diner, but hopefully by the end of the summer I’ll have enough to get that Fender at the pawn shop, I already put my first paycheck as a down payment, but stupid Mr. Gold won’t give me the guitar until I pay for the whole thing._

__

_Peace,_

_Rock Star to be and All Around Nuisance, Roger_

\----------

“Mark I just got this from the front desk,” Mark’s mother said as she tossed an envelope in front of him.

Mark had been lying with his stomach down on the bed and he picked up the envelope and turned it over with confusion.

“Scarsdale?” he muttered, “he actually replied?”

A smile spread across his face as he tore into the letter to see what Roger had written. It was short but really what was he expecting to see? It didn’t take him long to read through the letter and quickly he sat up and went to grab a pad of paper and start writing.

“What are you doing?” Cindy asked as she braided her hair.

“Writing a letter to Roger,” Mark replied as he sat back down on the bed, “why do you care?”

Cindy made no reply, she was already absorbed in doing something else.

Mark rolled his eyes. He removed the cap off of the pen and started writing a reply to Roger, to keep him up to date in the latest happenings that he was experiencing.

_Dear Roger,_

__

_Well it is a pleasant surprise to see a letter from you, I really thought that you weren’t going to reply. But clearly you are just as bored as I am, and I’m sorry that I’m away but there really was nothing I could do. They were so insistent on family bonding, and with my family there was no way that I was going to be able to get out of it. Clearly you do have something to kill the time, nice that you got a job, and I bet by the end of the summer that guitar will be yours._

__

_Now quickly back to the topic of my Bar Mitzvah, I wasn’t pointing fingers I was just making a point and I will quickly sum it up by stating that I’m not going to put the blame on Maureen, sure she was egging me on. But I didn’t have to listen to her, I’m not her little puppy. I guess we were probably all at fault on this count._

__

_I don’t want to lecture you (although you already know I don’t approve of you smoking) but I don’t want you to do something you are going to regret later in life. I mean you’ve heard about all that nasty stuff they say about cigarettes and smoking… Whatever, it’s your choice and I think I would rather keep hearing from you this summer than being completely cut off from the rest of the world._

__

_Now, remember what I said in my last letter about getting a tan? Clearly that is not happening. Not only did I not tan, I have a sunburn like you wouldn’t believe. Apparently, every single force of nature is out to get me, There is hardly an inch of me that isn’t red and peeling anymore. This obviously makes it very uncomfortable to do pretty much anything that involves something coming in contact with my skin, which limits me down to almost nothing. But mom and dad won’t hear any of it, they keep saying that I must participate in all family activities. Easy for them to say, they don’t feel like their skin as on fire 24/7. We are now in Eilat, which is the southernmost point here… That bus ride felt like it was was going to go on forever, when you can’t lean back things get really difficult and painful really quickly._

_Now that we’re here it’s not that bad, I think this might be the kind of place you might enjoy. It’s like Vegas, but not? I really don’t know how else to describe it. I mean it’s in the middle of the desert, it’s filled with fancy hotels and every morning the ground is littered with calling cards. I’m not kidding._

__

_Back on the beach, it really isn’t that pleasant it’s not soft and sandy, in fact it’s covered in pebbles that even make it difficult to walk while wearing shoes. Cindy dragged me onto one of these inflatable raft things that they pull behind a motorboat. She had to guide me to it because as you well know it’s nearly impossible for me to see without my glasses and those were not allowed on this ride. They take you out to the middle of the sea and then you climb out onto this little raft and basically hang on for dear life. Of course I fell off and was flailing around and could scarcely make out the shape of anything, not exactly my idea of fun._

__

_I’m currently slathered in aloe and it seems to be helping… A little bit. I finally was able to convince them to let me stay in for tonight due to the immense amount of pain that this is causing me. So finally a much needed break from the family unit. God there are still six weeks of me being stuck here. Although I know you say you have plans for me when we get back, I think am just a little bit terrified at the prospect. I know you are hellbent on corrupting me, Roger, and I know the drinking was one step, and needless to say I’m more than a little concerned about what is to follow. At least I don’t have to worry about a tag team effort between you and MoMo._

_Well thinking on taking advantage of room service tonight (Mom left me her credit card, if I needed anything and I think I need a hot fudge sundae)._

__

_Never thought that I would be counting down the days till I would be coming back to Scarsdale, but I am._

__

_Mark_

\----------

_Marko Polo,_

_Oh ye of little faith. Despite my thoughts on this pen pal nonsense, you know that if you wrote me enough times, I’d eventually write back. That’s how we do things, you nag until I listen. Or at least until I pretend to listen._

__

_We’re going to have to agree to disagree on the Bar Mitzvah issue, although I think that MoMo will me on my side when it comes to the blame game. Just saying. Aren’t you old enough to drink in Israel? I thought that their drinking age was, like twelve. Or maybe I’m thinking of Russia…_

__

_The bus ride couldn’t possibly have been that long. The country is like the size of a postage stamp. How long could it possibly take to get from one side of a postage stamp to the other? If you’re going to be a drama queen then I’m going to stop writing. This is not a drill, I’m deadly serious. Now that I’ve got this job nonsense, I don’t need you to keep me entertained. Sorry, but discounted fries will always take first place._

__

_Oh, you poor baby. The whole world is against you, isn’t it? I’m not laughing right now, I swear. Those stains are tears of sadness from your absence, not tears of laughter as I read over your letter again and imagine the picture you’ve painted. Speaking of pictures, I need one of Cindy in her swimsuit. For reasons._

__

_I say go ahead and abuse the family credit card. She wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t expect you to use it. The fact that you were already thinking about doing that exact thing means that you don’t need me to corrupt you, you’re corrupted enough already. MoMo and I must be a good influence._

__

_If things go they way they’re going and I keep picking up extra shifts, I should be able to get that Fender sooner rather than later and then stop with all this working. I think I’m allergic to working, seriously._

__

_Aching Feet But Still Alive,_

_Roger_

\----------

“Crap,” Mark sighed as he sank down on the bed and glanced at Roger’s last letter that sat on his pillow. It had been forever since the last time he’d written Roger. So much had happened that he’d completely forgotten to respond. Now he had a moment to rest, and as they said there was no time like the present...

“Mark, we’re going to go to the dining hall soon,” his mother called out.

 

“I’ll be out in a bit,” Mark replied as he grabbed his note pad, hoping to get down at least part of the letter before he had to go. Mark sighed trying to recall where he’d left off, picking up Roger’s letter he quickly read through it before beginning to compose his response.

_Dear Roger,_

_This is going to be a longer letter than usual but a lot has happened since my previous one. Things in Israel are getting better, sunburn has faded, left a sort of tan and things have gotten a bit more interesting. And, dare I say it, I might enjoying myself. I think my issues lie more with the family unit then with Israel itself. I mean this place is a photographer’s dream, everywhere you turn there is something amazing to see. I took some footage out of the bus window as we went through the desert, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. We certainly don’t have scenery like that in Scarsdale, that’s for sure._

__

_You’re probably wondering what my change of heart is all about, so I suppose I have some explaining to do._

_After leaving Eilat we went to this place where you can experience what it’s like to live in a “Bedouin Tent.” I mean it’s not real camping, they still have a place with food and there are showers and bathrooms. After we got there, we were grouped with a few other families and they showed as how they grind coffee and they sing songs while they do it, I think it was in Arabic? After that we went on a camel ride, not as exciting as it sounds, it’s actually kind of uncomfortable and the novelty of it all wore off rather quickly. And they spit, it’s really gross and I smelled like camel until I finally got to shower. The food we had that night was actually really good, they don’t have anything like that in New York, not even in the city. You do have to have an acquired to taste to appreciate the coffee, even MoMo (the self-proclaimed caffeine goddess she is) might have trouble swallowing this version of coffee._

__

_The next morning we got up at some obscene hour and took a bus out to Masada (a 2,000 year old fortress type thing). My parents said if we hiked up the Roman ramp now we would get to take the cable car back down once we were done. It wasn’t that bad, and although I was exhausted I made it to the top in one piece and it is one hell of a view. We got there and slowly the sun began to rise and it shone down on the Dead Sea (of course I have pictures of that) and there were a bunch other teenagers part of groups there too. Some were singing, some were doing morning prayers, but everything else was silent, it was amazing. Slowly, I think I’m able to see what makes Israel so amazing. Okay I know I’m getting sappy so I’ll back off…_

__

_The moment was ruined when my father decided that, no of course we couldn’t go down with cable car, we needed to “build character” so he hiked down the snake path and the sun was beating down on us the whole way. Just when my sunburn was slowly starting to heal; it isn’t as bad as it was, thankfully._

__

_After Masada we took a bus down to the Dead Sea, you’ve heard of that place at least right? It’s pretty cool, you float without even trying but if you have even the tiniest cut it hurts like hell. I had cut myself shaving and it burned (yes, despite what you think I do shave). Then because she thought it was funny Cindy decided that we should have a mud fight, I’m still finding bits stuck in my ears and my glasses as well._

__

_After a couple of hours at the Dead Sea we then went to this waterfall place called Ein Gedi, it’s fun. Water is really cold, and I may have fallen off a rather large boulder but it was slippery!_

_Another long and extensive bus ride later and we got to a kibbutz in Sde Boker, it was there we met these relatives I didn’t even know we had (enclosed is a picture of Etai and Rivi). They’re loud and boisterous (I suppose that’s a good word) but I suppose I’ve come to expect that, it's how most Israelis are. Etai is about your age and he has just started his service in the army here, he does complain about it but still something makes him feel proud. Rivi is a couple years older and will soon be finishing, I think she is doing something related to intelligence? It’s been easier to talk with them then I would have expected it to be, it’s been an odd mish-mash of Hebrew and English but we seem to understand each other. Their parents don’t speak English nearly as well, but we seem to be getting along well. I think we’ll be staying here a few weeks to get to know the “extended Cohen family.” I’m sure this experience will prove to be interesting for lack of another word._

_Letters from the Holy Land Provided by,_

_Mark Cohen_

\----------

_On Your Mark Get Set Go,_

_Oh, are you still alive? It’s been so long since you last letter I thought that you might’ve dropped off the edge of the Earth. I didn’t miss your letters, not one bit. Nope. Not that you should stop writing, just know that I wouldn’t miss them if you did._

_...I think that was fairly convincing. No sentiment from me, no sir…_

_Ugh! Agh! Poetic language! My only weakness! “The sun began to rise and it shone down on the Dead Sea.” I’m dying from the sheer sappy, emotionalness of it all. Although the fact that you’ve gotten burned again takes the edge off. I can feel you rolling your eyes when you read this. You can’t hide from me._

_I’m not even going to bother trying to pronounce that word “Sde,” because I’m sure I’ll do it wrong, but I don’t really care because god damn your cousin or whatever is really hot. Is she single? You should give her my number. I’ll totally pay for the long distance charge. I’m a working man, you see, I have money. Loads of money. Make sure you tell her that. Forget Cindy, I want a picture of her in a swimsuit._

_I haven’t paid attention to anything else in your letter, you’re far less interesting than a very attractive young lady._

_Laterz,_

_Roger_

\----------

When Mark read Roger’s letter he couldn’t help but groan, not that he could have expected really anything else. He did know there was one thing that he wasn’t going to do, there was no way that he was going to send Roger a picture of Rivi in a swimsuit, there was no way in hell and he wasn't going to make sure his best friend knew that.

_Dear Roger,_

 

_No, I am not sending you a picture of Rivi in a swimsuit, I know this is very disappointing but it’s not going to happen. Besides, you do realize she could easily kick your ass, right? She’s in the ISRAELI ARMY… Do you not understand what that means?_

_Speaking of the army, I’ve met a lot of soldiers while we’ve been here (Cindy has probably developed a crush on at least six of them) and they are great. Etai has been telling me all these stories (or as much as he can) about basic training and it’s pretty amazing. Even though they are required to enlist, and even though he complains about it a lot you get a certain sense of pride from them._

_You’re going to think I’m crazy at what I have to say next but hear me out…_

Mark looked down at his letter and sighed, he couldn’t believe that he was about to write this either and while it might come across as rash Mark could say he’d never felt so sure of anything in his entire life.

_I’m thinking that after I graduate from high school that I might go and serve in the Israeli Army, I’m expecting that you will probably stop reading the letter and jump on a plane to come save me but I’m thinking this might really be a good idea. I can’t describe it but something feels right about being here, besides it’s not like I’d be joining right away. I haven’t told anyone else yet, and I’m not sure when I will (obviously I’m going to have to) but you're my best friend so you’ve earned that right at getting to be the first to know._

_DO NOT TELL MOMO._

 

_She’s such a drama queen we know that she’ll blow this out of proportion (more so than you do) I’ll tell her when I get back, okay?_

_Please let me know what you think (and if you could cut back on the profanity that would be really great) because your opinion means a lot to me. Just think, I’ll be back in Scarsdale before you know it._

_Mark_

\----------

_I hope this reaches you before you leave, it’s taken me a bit longer than I thought it would to put everything together. I’ve enclosed some information about some good mental hospitals in New York because it is obvious that you have lost your fucking mind. It must be heatstroke or something like that because there is no way in HELL that you are joining the fucking army and no I will NOT cut down on the profanity. I also will not tell MoMo because there is nothing to tell her. I know that you’re getting really into this heritage pride or whatever, and that’s fine, but that doesn’t mean you have to go and get fucking shot at. You will not even survive basic training, and I am deathly fucking serious about that. I don’t just mean that you will probably burn to a fucking crisp in the sun. You are going to lose every single piece of what makes you Mark Cohen to become this perfect toy soldier and I am going to lose my best friend in the stupid fucking desert in his stupid fucking army fatigues holding a stupid fucking gun. Guns, Mark. You’re going to have to shoot people, real living and breathing people with guns and I will lose you. You are not built for violence, I know you far too well to think that you’ll survive the experience with your mind intact. There is no fucking way that I am going to let that happen to you. I never want that to happen to anybody I care about ever again._

_One more time in case you’re being selectively blind:_

_No. Fucking. Way_.

_So get that stupid fucking idea out of your head._

_We will never speak about this again._

_~ R_

**  
** \----------

Mark had been shocked by Roger’s response to his last letter, he knew he would have a strong reaction that’s just how Roger is… But to have a reaction like that, well that was definitely enough for him to strongly reconsider. Mark decided he wasn’t going to make that the focus of his next letter, after all this was going to be the last one he sent from Israel. Soon enough he would back in New York and he and Roger would be able to talk face to face.

_Dear Roger,_

_You've made your point very clear, and I guess I should apologise for scaring you, it was just a thought. I had no idea that you would react that way, but I suppose that I really should have known. No decisions have been made, I've got some time to figure this out but I will take your opinion into account._

_In other news we're down to the last part trip, we've made it back to Tel-Aviv, we'll just have to see who makes it home first, me? Or this letter? I've had a surprisingly good time, but I think I'm ready to come back Scarsdale (if only to see you and Maureen)._

_We're supposed to have a picnic on the beach, although I'm not so sure how much more sun I can take, but I now have proof that I'm not albino!_

_Should be seeing you in about a week, maybe you can come to the airport? I think I need another vacation, this time from my family._

_Mark_

\----------

 

Roger glanced at his watch again, checking against the airport clock to make sure it was still showing the right time. Mark and his family were supposed to be getting in from their vacation in Israel and Roger was itching to see his best friend. They hadn’t been separated for this long since they had met all those years ago and Roger had been going out of his mind with boredom without Mark to entertain him, although those letters had been a nice substitute. Roger was planning on absconding with Mark for the next week or so, Mark already had his clothing all packed, so it wouldn’t be too big of a deal for him to come to Roger’s instead of going home. Besides, Mrs. Cohen had already agreed.

Finally, the jetway doors opened and the outflux of people began. Roger may have been tall for his age, but there was a big crowd and it was difficult to see over their heads. Mark would be particularly difficult to spot because he was so short. As the flow began to peter out, Roger caught sight of his friend’s family. Mr. and Mrs. Cohen were both talking animatedly, her arm tucked into the crook of his. Behind them was Cindy, gorgeous as always, though Roger would never say such a thing out loud, sporting a brand new tan. Bringing up the rear was Mark, his hair more blonde and his face decidedly more red than Roger remembered.

“Mark!”

The skinny boy looked up at the sound of his name and grin spread across his face. He closed the distance between them at a slightly faster pace and Roger quickly pulled Mark into a bear hug. Mark’s face was pressed against his shoulder, so at first all Roger heard was some muffled noise, but it eventually cleared into a steady stream of, “Ow, sunburn, ow, sunburn,” and Roger quickly let go.

“So,” Roger said, sticking his hands in his pockets, “when can I expect you to start growing this curly things next to your ears?”

Mark punched him in the shoulder and Roger chuckled.

“They’re called peyus, you doofus,” Mark replied, “And I’m not going to grow any, geeze.”

“Yeah, I can just see you spending hours in the bathroom with Cindy’s curling iron getting it just right,” Roger cooed in a high-pitched voice, curling strands of his own hair around his finger.

Mark shoved him and Roger laughed again.

“Come on, buddy,” Roger crowed, slapping Mark heartily on the back having completely forgotten about the sunburn and causing Mark to flinch in pain, “We’re going back to mine. See ya later, Mr. C, Mrs. C, Cindy! We’ve still got a month and a half of summer to waste before school ruins everything.”

Roger gingerly placed an arm around Mark’s shoulders and began to lead him away.

“No,” Mark whined pitifully, “I’m so tired, all I want to do is sleep.”

“No ya don’t,” Roger instructed, ruffling his friend’s hair.

Now all he had to do was tell Mark he was going to the City right after graduation to start a band. All going well, he could convince Mark to join him when the slightly younger boy graduated the following year.

****  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The bits about Israel were taken from our own experiences there.


End file.
